Dawn till dusk
All of the cliches you hear your whole life are sort of true. My mother told me that my life would change at 25, 35, 45 and that turning 50 I would know what it meant to be woman, and that the years that followed would be fabulous. She knew her stuff. The other things like you don’t know what it means to be a mother until you are one, life is short (but wide), youth is wasted on the young, and on and on, all true.
Tonight the full moon has been visible in the sky since early this morning – and I have noticed it calls to people in different ways – some beat their breast, and some walk an inch off the ground.
Today I went through my to do list – laundry, put the gargoyles up that have been down since the side of the terrace needed repainting, walk Tin and Loca, drop a note off for Harold at the American Can about Tin’s birthday, try to clean up my desk (not), and then a surprise visit from a friend with his two little girls, who decided they wanted to feed Tin.
And before you know it – Saturday is Saturday evening and the moon that has been an outline against the backlit sky is now front and center bold and glowing in the gloaming, and even the dusk is sneaking away very fast.
The little girl said to me, “What do you do?” “Do you make a lot of money?”
She has nearly four decades to figure out what I know and by that time, she will not care about those questions anymore.